Page 66 of Perfume Girl
“What’s your address?”
I hesitated. “Pick me up at the store.”
“What about your home?”
“The store is fine.”
His gaze narrowed on me. “Tonight will be strictly business, Raquel. You would do well to remember that.”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Yes, sir.”
“Tease me at your peril, Wren,” he whispered. His hand trailed up my forearm, causing a shiver along my skin.
I feigned disapproval at his teasing, and as he walked away I couldn’t help but stare. Even from behind he was a striking specimen of a man. It was his confident, regal stance…the broad shoulders and that perfectly firm bum.
What the hell was happening?
All I wanted to do was bury my teeth into his alluring pert cheeks and then kiss him all over. Pleasure rippled through me at the thought of my tongue running along his—
Astor spun round to look at me and a grin slid across his face.
I swore under my breath at getting caught admiring his assets. My breath hitched when he walked back toward me, and I said breathlessly, “Yes, Mr. Beauregard?”
“Why did you call your store Perfume Girl?”
“It’s what my mom used to call me. She’d say, ‘Here comes my perfume girl.’”
“That’s sweet…and a perfect name.”
“I think so.”
He gave me a nod and strolled away. “See you tonight, perfume girl.”
My heart raced. I watched him leave, my bruised lips still tingling from his delicious kiss.
ITOOK IN THE DISTINCTIVEblue and white Perfume Girlsign and then lowered my gaze to admire the shop’s stained-glass front window. This was all soher.
A perfect fit for downtown Dunedin’s classic style and a remarkable achievement for any chemist. This proved Raquel was talented in both business and chemistry, and if it wasn’t for her husband letting her down she’d continue to thrive. If I hadn’t planned this visit in order to spy on her, I’d have been stoked to be meeting with such a gifted entrepreneur.
Her location was great for foot traffic and was situated next to a bakery. That “spoil yourself” mentality probably spilled over to the shop. Many customers saw perfume as a luxury item, which meant marketing was tailored toward the impulse buy.
The House of Beauregard’s clientele were repeat customers because they couldn’t find that level of quality anywhere else. Their loyalty was rewarded with compelling formulas that satisfied even our most discerning customer. We sold a profound experience to the sophisticated elite, whereas Raquel offered the public a more affordable line. I was looking forward to sampling her scents.
The CLOSING DOWN SALE sign stuck on the front window nagged at my conscience. I could save this place.IfI chose to. Instead, I would get what I needed from tonight’s interrogation and then fire her.
Raquel would be out of my life and my business would have survived another threat. She’d be okay. From the brief time I’d spent with her, I’d come to realize that she was a survivor.
The doorbell rang as I stepped inside and I felt the chill of air-conditioning. I paused for a moment on the tiled floor, picking up the aroma ofSavage King,aBeauregard cologne with dark notes and dusky ripples.
“I’ll be right there,” Raquel called from the back of the store.
Moving farther in, I looked around at what had probably once been a thriving store. Large black and white prints hung on the walls, one a picture of a white tulip and another had captured a white rose in mid-bloom. A gold-framed mirror covered the entire length of the far wall.
The shelves were stripped of their bottles—other than one long glass shelf on my left that still had a few on display…as though Raquel had not been ready to remove them all. A stack of boxes sat in one corner of the room, and a chaise lounge in another.
A feeling of sadness hung in the air as thick as my cologne. Passion had been very much alive here once, with Raquel placing her personal touch on everything from the decorative light fixtures to the glass-fronted counter, creating an eclectic atmosphere for her customers to enjoy.
I imagined this place had been popular amongst locals as well as tourists. I was sure the other shop owners would be sorry to see her go, too. If Raquel couldn’t save this place she’d lose money as well as her dream. I suddenly understood her motivation for doing whatever it took to salvage her flailing business, and it caused the hairs on my nape to prickle.
